


Pity

by zarabithia



Category: Batman (Comics), Outsiders (Comics)
Genre: M/M, references Dick/Roy, references Tim/Kon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-10-25
Updated: 2005-10-25
Packaged: 2018-11-19 09:08:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11310231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zarabithia/pseuds/zarabithia
Summary: Tim’s feeling abandoned.  Roy’s feeling abandoned.  They feel sorry for each other.





	Pity

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place just after Dick and Roy's fight in the Outsiders. It was not a time in which anybody in the Batfamily or Teen Titans was a very happy camper, and the tone of the fic reflects that.

Every bone in Roy Harper’s body hurt, which didn’t make much sense.Sure, Dick was one of the top ten hand to hand fighters in the world, and Roy had just served as his own personal punching bag less than an hour ago.But Roy had fought fighters of an equal or better skill before, and he had never walked away feeling as though his whole body was ready to collapse. 

 

A nagging little voice whispered in the back of his head that he’d never gone hand to hand with a lover he’d cared so much about. 

 

_Stupid voices._ They were probably a by-product of the drugs, which Dick had been oh, so considerate in reminding him about tonight. 

 

The saddest part of it all was that Roy knew that Dick had been holding back on his punches.He tried to find some comfort in that knowledge by trying to convince himself that Dick hadn’t really wanted to hurt him.But his sore body and sour mood told him that was bullshit; Dick clearly hadn’t thought he could handle fighting him at full strength.

 

It was more than a little fucked up that the fact that his former lover refused to hit him full force pissed him off.Roy knew this.It didn’t help matters much.Not that Roy had any idea what _would_ help other than a good self-pity session.He was glad Lian was spending the night with one of her friends; he was in way too rough shape to be even an adequate dad tonight.

 

By the time he’d completed the short walk to his apartment, all he really wanted to do was take a hot shower, find something alcoholic to drink, and then crawl into his cold bed and sleep until it was time to pick Lian up from school tomorrow.

 

The last thing Roy wanted to see when he got to his apartment was a Robin.   

 

But a Robin greeted him nonetheless.The very sight of those familiar colors was almost enough to make Roy angry.Even if it had been years since Dick had worn them, it had been while Dick had been in _those_ colors and in a costume so very similar to the one _this_ Robin wore that Roy had first honed the fine art of appreciating _his_ Robin’s body, movements and style.Dick would always be a little Robin, no matter how much like Batman he became. 

 

It wasn’t the first time _this_ Robin had come to his apartment.This Robin idolized Dick even more so than Batman and had sought Nightwing’s company when all wasn’t well in the Bat-world.But that had been back when the only bruises Dick had formed on Roy’s skin had been from an over-abundance of enthusiasm.The memory wasn’t a happy one, given tonight’s events, and caused Roy to be a little snappish in his greeting.

 

“What do you want?” 

 

Robin's shoulders moved up and then kind of fell down. It wasn’t really a shrug, and the kid looked like maybe he didn’t have enough energy to produce a full one.“I needed a place to sleep.Nightwing’s not home.”

 

“You could have picked the lock.” Any of the Bat-clan could.It was probably the first thing they learned how to do.

 

Robin’s shoulders didn’t even move this time, he simply tilted his head to the left until it met his shoulder.“If you’d rather bealone, I’ll go.”

 

Roy _would_ rather be alone.But the many years he’d spent trying to learn how to read _his_ Robin clued him into the fact that _this_ Robin wanted company.He was in a foul enough mood tonight to not care, to tell the kid just exactly _why_ Nightwing wasn’t home, list the many ways Dick wasn’t worthy of his hero worship, and then send the kid packing. He might have, too, except that a second glance revealed the kid to be soaked to the bone – which was odd, given that it hadn’t rained today – and, in general, looking every inch the kicked in the gut that Roy felt.Roy was in the mood not to care even about that, but. . . it was a _Robin._ They were trained by Batman not to show anything.The very fact that this one _was_ showing something besides his mask made Roy not take out the anger he felt for Nightwing on Robin.Mostly because in that moment, Roy saw another Robin that was neither current Nightwing nor current Robin, but rather the Robin he’d known a long time ago – the one who had been his leader, friend, and confidante long before they’d become lovers.

 

“Stay.I’ll order pizza.”

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Tim ran his tongue over the pepperoni slice in his mouth twice, cast a glance to his left to make sure Arsenal wasn’t looking, and spit the cold, overly-textured meat into his hand.As discreetly as possible, he laid it on the side of his plate. Tim tried really hard _not_ to self identify with the discarded, chewed up piece of undesired meat product sitting pathetically alone in the corner of his plate. 

 

But it was hard not to.

 

He reached for the pizza slice again, a bit too enthusiastically and paid for it in his left forearm.One of the city's many thugs had gotten a lucky shot on the way to Arsenal’s apartment tonight, which normally wouldn’t have made much of a difference.But it was the same arm Kon had broken, and it simply hadn’t had adequate time to heal before being injured again.

 

_“I broke you, Tim.I. Broke. You..I won’t be around to make that mistake again.”_

The combination of the pain in his arm, and the pain of the memory of Kon’s words caused his hand to miscalculate.As a result, his hand smacked the side of the plate and sent the plate, pizza, and pepperoni all flying towards the floor.Tim reached for it, and his reflexes would have caught it too, if the pain hadn’t come back into his arm. Instead, the plate hit the ground and shattered.Pizza bits flew in various directions all over Arsenal’s carpet.Arsenal – the man who had once been named _Speedy –_ just sat there and watched it fall.Then he got up and walked into the kitchen. 

 

Tim gritted his teeth, and bent down to pick up the pieces. 

 

When Arsenal returned from the kitchen, he was brandishing a first aide kit.Tim looked at him with confusion even as the other man sat down and began opening the kit.

 

Finally, Arsenal decided to speak.It was the first thing the older man had said since they’d entered the apartment.“You’re bleeding.”

 

Tim looked down at his hands in confusion.He’d been careful picking up the pieces of glass, and he didn’t’ see any blood.. . 

 

“Your arm, Robin. Not your hands.”

 

_Oh._ Tim wondered why he hadn’t noticed that.One of the first things Batman taught him was – 

 

how to distrust his friends.Which is why it should be no surprise that the current Cold War of Superheroes was heating up faster each day and Bruce was setting himself up to be on the front line. Tim didn’t want to think about it, but he couldn’t help it, and his recent trip to Smallville only made it more difficult to forget.

 

Tim knew that Wonder Woman, Superman, and Batman were divided.He knew thatwhen the war came, Wondergirl, Superboy, and Robin would be expected to chose sides as well. In the end, Tim knew he’d have to choose between siding with the man he’d die _beside_ , and the man he’d die _for._

Tim didn’t want to make that choice, and a small part of him hated Batman for putting him in the situation to begin with – him, his stupid robots, and his stupid Star Wars’ spy satellites. Another part of him hated Kon, who had ignored Tim’s pleas to come back to San Francisco.Tim knew that when the time came, Superman’s pleas would be strong enough to get Kon to leave the farm. Tim’s hadn’t been. 

 

_“Go home, Tim.”_

_“Not without you.”_

_“I am home, Robin.”_

Arsenal’s sigh jerked Tim out of his thoughts and back into the present. 

 

“Take your shirt off.”

 

“I’m fine.” 

 

Arsenal had been quiet all night – uncharacteristically quiet, really – so the outburst that followed took him by surprise.“Goddamnit, why are all Robins such control freaks?”

 

“I’m no –“

 

“You’ve bled all over my fucking couch, Robin.You aren’t _fine.”_

Tim followed Arsenal’s gaze to the dark red stain on the light fabric of the man’s couch.“I’m sorry.”

 

Arsenal ran a hand through his hair and let out another sigh.It occurred to Tim that Arsenal had a rather expansive chest – and Tim wondered how long it would be before he’d be able to look at a large chest that flowed into a set of wide shoulders without thinking of Kon.It was ridiculous.Tim walked amongst heroes every day and night.Kon was hardly the only one – or even the first that he’d seen – whose arms and shoulders seemed to span the entire room.But Kon’s were his favorite.

 

“Don’t worry about it, Robin.”

 

Tim scowled back at the red stain that Arsenal was referring to.“I ruined your couch.”

 

The red head responded by reaching behind Tim and flipping the couch cushion around.“Blood is nearly impossible to get out,”Arsenal acknowledged, “But this is hardly the first couch of mine that’s seen blood.Won’t be the last, either.Now, will you please pull your shirt off so that I can treat your wound before you bleed to death?” 

 

Tim complied, and was startled to discover that it felt like someone was slicing his arm open. How could he have been so careless as to not realize the depth of his wound before? 

 

Arsenal’s voiced similar thoughts. “Damn. This is pretty bad.It’s a good thing for you that I have all those valuable years of Titan first aide experience.”

 

His hands grasped Tim’s arm, and though his hands were as calloused as was appropriate for a man who’s weapon of choice was usually a bow and arrow, they were surprisingly gentle.They were also surprisingly large.Tim wasn’t surprised at all that both the man’s hands and mannerisms were reminding him of Kon.

 

He fought back the urge to sigh, and tried to convince himself that Robins apparently had eerily similar taste in men was _cute_ and not utterly depressing.He failed miserably, however, mostly because that train of thought led right back to the man he was trying so hard not to think about.

 

_Focus._ Somehow none of Batman’s training was coming through tonight.He couldn’t focus on anything, a stupid street mugger had gotten the better of him, and he hadn’t even been balanced enough to keep from dropping Arsenal’s plate.

 

“I’m sorry bout the plate, too.”

 

“Don’t sweat it.”

 

For some reason, this greatly annoyed Tim.“I _will_ sweat it.You shouldn’t go around breaking people’s plates on the presumption that they have more.”

 

“Did you get hit in the head too?” 

 

Tim scowled and sunk into the couch as much as he could without moving his arm.“No.”

 

“Well, I do have more plates, so stop worrying about it.”

 

“Maybe I want to worry about it.” Okay, that was entirely too petulant. 

 

“We’re not talking about plates, are we?” 

 

“No, I guess not.”

 

“I’d ask if you want to talk about it, but I guess that would be a waste of time, huh?”

 

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Tim waited for the prodding that would come anyway.The “you want to tell me because it’s healthier that way” argument.Half of him would have welcomed it tonight, and he just might relent. 

 

But Arsenal merely shrugged. “It was an ugly plate anyway.Flash has horrible taste in housewarming presents.”

 

Tim tried to imagine Bart in a store, at some point in the distant future, trying to buy him the right type of plate for a housewarming present.Moreover,Tim wondered if he’d actually ever need more than _one_ plate.

 

\----------------

 

Damn, the kid’s cut _was_ deep.Something was off, because Robins didn’t get hurt this badly.They just _didn’t._ Roy had treated more than his fair share of Robin injuries over the years, and they had never been this bad. 

 

“I don’t suppose you want to tell me what happened to your arm?” 

 

“Lucky mugger.What happened to your face?”

 

“Dick.” He hadn’t meant to say it.The kid obviously had enough to deal with, and the sudden revelation that his mentor was turning into a bastard wasn’t going to help.But he’d been so busy concentrating on fixing Robin’s cut that he’d answered without thinking.

 

At least, Roy hoped that was the reason. Any other explanation pretty much made him an asshole. 

 

“Dick? But he wouldn’t. . . You’re his _Kon_.” 

 

Roy didn’t know who Kon was, and there wasn’t really anything he could say to the other part of Robin’s answer, so he didn’t say anything. 

 

“Are you still together?” 

 

The question hurt, but Roy could tell by the small, quiet way that it was asked that it wasn’t Robin’s intention to hurt him.Not _this_ Robin, anyway.But he couldn’t quite form the word ‘no.’ It somehow made losing Dick more final than even the night’s earlier punching session had. “I’m not really a masochist, Robin.”

 

“Does it hurt less when they actually love you?”

 

Roy finished bandaging Robin’s arm and wondered when the kid had gotten so chatty.He hadn’t been the last time he’d been here.“The bruises say no.” 

 

“I wasn’t talking about them.I was talking about. . . the leaving.”

 

Roy really hadn’t wanted to deal with the emotional fallout of his fight with Dick tonight.He’d wanted just to coddle his sore body, and give in to the emotional crap tomorrow, or later, if he could force himself to.

 

But the way Robin asked it, as though he might very well start to bleed _again_ if Roy was too harsh forced him to answer.“The bruises still say no.”

 

With his good arm, Robin reached up and ran his index finger over the top curve of Roy’s right cheekbone.It was low enough, and soft enough of a touch that Roy didn’t quite flinch.But he did shiver when Robin’s middle finger followed in the shadow of the first.

 

At the shiver, his brain told him to move.His body didn’t listen.

 

“Do you know why I didn’t pick the lock to Dick’s apartment tonight?” Robin asked, and suddenly, the small little voice was gone.It’s been replaced by The Robin The Leader Voice.

 

“No.Why?”His body still didn’t move, even as Robin’s fingers continued their trace along the outside of his jaw line.

 

“I was sick of being alone.Aren’t you?” 

 

_God, yes._ The finger continued it’s trek across Roy’s face and as it reached his lips, he closed his eyes briefly enough to travel back in time.He wasn’t sitting in his dark apartment with a replacement Robin.He was fifteen, sitting in the pool at Titans Tower with Dick who would never strike him . . _Fifteen._

 

“How old are you?”That sounded weak.Too weak.But his body still wouldn’t move.

 

Robin’s two fingers formed into a hand, which cupped his face.The mask had never come off, but Roy knew that the kid was looking directly into his eyes when he spoke.“Old enough to go toe to toe with the Joker. Old enough to disable up to seven armed criminals at once.Old enough to lead a group of superheroes with enough combined power to move the moon, ocean, and a couple of mountains on their worst day.Old enough to know what I want.”The hand tightened around Roy’s chin.

 

Robin guided Roy’s face closer to his own and the nagging little voice in the back of his head _tsked_ in disapproval as Robin’s mouth pressed against his own.Not only did he not move, he parted his lips just slightly enough to allow Robin’s tongue access.It was a warm, wet, enthusiastic kiss, with no finesse at all, but just the right amount of want that made Roy unable to move. Even before tonight, Dick's moods hadn't exactly been conducive to want. Roy needed to be wanted again so badly that even he realized how pathetic it sounded. 

 

“I want _this_ , Arsenal.”

 

“You might as well call me Roy.”

 

Robin hesitated then, and his hand moved from Roy’s chin to his own face. When Roy realized what he was going to do, his own hand jerked forward and stopped him. 

 

“No.Keep the mask on.”

 

Robin titled his head.“I suppose you don’t want to know my name then?”

 

“Not particularly.Does that bother you?”

 

“Not particularly.”

 

Robin rose then, still in leadership mode.Roy noted that all Robins, regardless of whether they wore short pants or not, looked utterly ridiculous in that mode while sporting a hard-on.“Come on, then.I think I’ve stained your couch enough for the night.”

 

It was then that Roy’s stubborn body agreed to move. He followed Robin as the younger man strode purposely towards the bedroom Roy and Dick used to share. 

\-----

 

From the roof across the street, Dick watched in disbelief as the light in Roy’s bedroom came on.He continued to watch as the two shadows removed their clothes and tumbled on to the bed Dick would probably never sleep on again. 

 

It was impossible, but he’d seen Tim enter the apartment building, and there was no mistaking the Tim-sized shadow or the Robin cape that fell to the ground.You didn’t have to be trained by the World’s Greatest Detective to draw the obvious conclusion. 

 

Dick had spent a large part of the past month feeling nothing but numb.He was healed of that all at once, because anger, hurt, and a feeling of betrayal all fought for dominance.

 

He told himself he didn’t have any right to feel that way.After what he’d done to Roy earlier that night, he didn’t have any claim to the man.Dick didn’t blame Tim either.Not only was the kid dealing with a far more withdrawn Batman than Dick had ever dealt with, he’d had to fight the object of his affection – something Dick could testify to being unbearable.Tim was lonely. Dick had _made_ Roy lonely.They were. . . comforting each other.

 

So, no, he didn’t blame either of them.As he cast his line and leapt off the building, he mentally wished them all the happiness in the world.

 

He couldn’t help but think, however, that he would look Superboy up and seek some comfort of his own if he thought for one minute he deserved any. 


End file.
